


All is Fair

by thewesterndoor



Series: Strange Neighbours [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Aged-Up Yuri Plisetsky, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, DJ Otabek Altin, Fluff, M/M, Masturbation in Shower, Prank Wars, Salty Yuri Plisetsky, Victor Nikiforov is Extra, Yuri Plisetsky Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-26
Updated: 2018-08-26
Packaged: 2019-06-29 12:03:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15729039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewesterndoor/pseuds/thewesterndoor
Summary: Taking over the lease on Viktor's old apartment had seemed like a great idea for Yurio.  Or it would be great if Viktor had bothered to forward his mail.  After the mail gets misdelivered to the hot neighbour--including a not so subtle erotic subscription box--Yurio decides that he has had it.  The only solution? He needs to unleash hell.  And if it happens to give him an excuse to spend time with his new neighbour so much the better.





	All is Fair

“ What the fuck do you want?” Yuri snarled as he opened the door to his apartment.

It was supposed to be his cousin Viktor in the hallway. Viktor had just texted, threatening to drop by and ‘check on his old place’. It was  _ supposed  _ to be Viktor and his stupid, smug face. But it wasn’t.

Standing just in front of the door was a man, a little shorter than Yuri but stockier and with more muscle with the sort of unimpressed expression that could rival…well, Yuri’s.

“ Your mail got delivered to me,” the man said.

He shoved a couple of envelopes and a large box into Yuri’s hands, and then turned on his heel, walking away.

Yuri leaned out into the hallway, staring after the man. He certainly  _ didn’t  _ notice the broad shoulders that tapered down to a lean waist, or the sort of ass and legs that said this guy never skipped leg day.

“ Who the fuck are you?” Yuri yelled.

“ Two D,” rumbled the man, before he let himself into an apartment just down the hall.

Staring after him, Yuri tried to figure out what the hell had just happened. Who just walked away like that? Yeah,  _ he  _ hadn’t exactly been friendly, but that was hardly Yuri’s fault. He really had been expecting Viktor, and if he gave any quarter to his cousin—showed even the slightest sign of interest—Yuri would have Viktor over here all the time, trying to stick his giant forehead into Yuri’s business. And worst of all, Viktor would bring his boyfriend.  Yuri had only just finished scouring every surface in the apartment with bleach after moving in--he’d a better idea of what sort of weird shit Viktor was into than he’d ever cared to know.

_ Whatever _ , he thought.  It’s not like he was actually  _ looking _ for friends or something.

He closed the door and started to sort through the mail.  Within seconds his anger started to rise; all of the letters were addressed to Viktor. He slammed it all down on the counter before snatching the mail up again hoping to find something interesting--something  _ useful _ .

There was what looked like a credit card statement and a letter from the university. For a moment Yuri was tempted to open both, but ultimately he decided the university letter wouldn’t be of much interest, and there was too much potential to see things that couldn’t be unseen on the credit card statement. He moved onto the box.

It was a little smaller than a shoe box, and was a glossy red. Written on the side in a sprawling black cursive it said True Romance. Without even opening it, it was clear that it contained sex toys, or lube, or something.  Yuri gagged a little at the thought before a thought started to work its way forward with a creeping horror.

_ Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck. FUCK. _

Did that neighbour... did he think that this was  _ Yuri’s _ ?

Yuri made it a point to give zero shits about what anyone thought of him, but he felt an odd pang in his chest at the thought that 2D might be back in his apartment right now judging him.

It was just because the neighbour had seemed pretty cool, Yuri consoled himself. He’d just started as a freshman at GU, and so the only people he knew were…well, Viktor and Yuuri.

And, he thought as indignant embarrassment gave way to an inferno in his chest, it was being pulled into Viktor’s bullshit. No one should have to start life in a new apartment with neighbours thinking their cousin’s creepy sex stuff was theirs!

Twisting his blond hair back into a quick bun, Yuri snatched up his phone and started texting.

 

_ Yuri _ : Hey asshole! Got your lube delivery.

_ Idiot _ : That arrived? Great! Wasn’t sure if I had changed the address in time before it shipped. Can I come pick it up now? Got plans this weekend ;)

 

Yuri threw his phone across the couch in disgust. Guess that answered exactly what was in the box.

Taking a breath to slow his rage to a simmer, he leaned over and retrieved his phone, typing out a response.

 

_ Yuri _ : Your shit got delivered to the neighbour. Now he probably thinks I’m some sort of pervert. Thanks.

_ Idiot _ : Thank Otabek for me! I’ll be over soon.

 

This time Yuri threw his phone across the room. It ricocheted off the side of the armchair and landed in Potya’s cat bed. She woke up and gave him a scathing look followed by an indignant meow. On her way out of the room, she hopped up onto the coffee table and kicked his water glass onto the floor.

The glass shattered, shards and water spreading out across the laminate.

_ Seems about right _ , Yuri thought with a sigh as he sunk down against the couch cushions.

 

***

Viktor had put a curse on Yuri. That was the only explanation for the run of bad luck Yuri’d been having. Family rumour had always held that Viktor’s mother was some sort of witch, and clearly she had passed along that trait.

And everything had begun when Yuri moved into the apartment. He would have to start checking in the backs of closets to see if Viktor left any evil eye bullshit around--once he could get back in that was. Yuri was locked out.

If the building had been at all normal, Yuri would have been fine when he forgot his keys to go down to the laundry room. Instead it had the sort of weird, European lock that Yuri only saw when he had to go visit the extended family in Russia. The bolt was always shot on the lock, and the only way you could keep the door unlocked was to slide up a lever that would hold the bolt back. It had felt like an incident waiting to happen, and that night, as he’d stepped out into the hallway and heard the click of the lock sliding into place, he’d realized that he didn’t have his keys on him.

Automatically his hands had moved down to grab his phone out of his pocket, only to brush against the tight fabric of his pockets-free leggings. The one time Yuri might have been grateful that Viktor  _ still _ hadn’t returned the second key and Yuri couldn’t even phone him.

Yuri had sunk down to the floor, his back against the door and his legs sprawled out in front of him. What was he going to do?

He supposed that Viktor would eventually come by—he always did--and Yuri could get let in then, but Viktor hadn’t really had that much time for Yuri since he’d moved in with his boyfriend. Instead of nights where Yuri was dragged out to stupid events hosted by Viktor’s friends at the Student Union Building, or afternoons binging Great British Bake Off, Yuri had found himself left to his own devices more and more.

And while he could actually go to Viktor’s place, the weather had turned bleak and cold. His t-shirt and leggings were fine to run across the parking lot, but would hardly going to hold up to the ten minute walk required to get there.

_ Maybe this is my life now. I can just live here in his doorway, and become the building hallway hobo. _

“ Are you okay?”

The low voice cut through Yuri’s thoughts, and he looked up to see 2D towering over him. 

“ Yup. Absolutely fucking swell,” Yuri said, before his brain could tell him to shut up.

There was an intense look from 2D, his dark eyes narrowed and his gaze sweeping over Yuri. Yuri was painfully aware of the fact that he looked like shit. His t-shirt was baggy, and not in a cute way, with a rainbow screen printed on it—something he’d stolen from Viktor in a moment of spite—and his leggings were tiger print. In contrast, 2D was the sort of cool that Yuri thought only existed in American tv shows, with skinny jeans, a plain white t-shirt and a motorcycle jacket.

After his perusal of Yuri, 2D just nodded, the gesture barely more than a jerk of his chin, and he turned towards his own doorway.

“ Wait!” Yuri said, scrambling to get up.

2D paused and turned back to Yuri, one eyebrow raised.

“ I’m…Look, sorry. It’s been a shitty day, and I locked myself out. And my phone is still in my apartment. Can I used your phone to call my cousin?”

Again Yuri was met with that enigmatic expression, before 2D said, “I still have a key to that place. The previous tenant gave me a spare key because he was always locking himself out.”

“ Of course he was,” Yuri said with an eye roll, before explaining, “That asshole is my cousin.”

There was the faintest softening around 2D’s mouth; Yuri wondered what it would take to get him to smile. He bet the guy looked fucking gorgeous when he smiled.

“ I’ll get the key for you.”

Yuri watched as the other man disappeared into his apartment, returning shortly to press a brass key into Yuri’s palm. He tried to ignore the flutters in his stomach at the slight brush of fingers against his skin.

“ Would you like to come in?” Yuri blurted. His face went hot and he raced to add, “For a beer. As a thank you. For the key.”

Heart pounding in his throat, he waited for 2D’s response. At the small nod, Yuri’s whole chest went tight. He pushed his hair out of his face, trying to keep his expression cool.

Letting himself in, he quickly crossed over to the fridge.

“ Grab a seat anywhere,” he called over the door.

Scanning the shelves, Yuri winced at what he found. There was a six pack of Bacardi Breezers from the last time Viktor invited himself over, as well as a couple of cans of Radlers, and one bottle of Corona that had been in there for a very long time.

Why didn’t he have anything cooler? Just looking at him, Yuri assumed that the other man was probably the type who bought his beers from microbreweries. He probably  _ made  _ his own beer.

Trying not to think about it, Yuri grabbed the Corona and a Radler. He quickly poured the flavoured beer into a glass, grateful that it looked like a regular beer out of the can.

“ This okay?” he said, offering the Corona to 2D.

He was answered with a nod.

The two settled into the living room, the silence hovering somewhere around desperately uncomfortable.

“ I’m Yuri, by the way,” Yuri said.

“ Otabek.”

“ Oh, cool. Yeah, I think I remember Viktor mentioning that. He uh, told me to thank you for dropping off his mail. And the package. Because that package was his.”

Yuri was rambling and he didn’t know how to stop. Somehow, his mouth just kept going. It wasn’t even as if he was normally like this. He was  _ never  _ the type to ramble. His greatest weapon was his ability to sit out an awkward silence. But there was something about Otabek that had Yuri needing to say something.

“ Hmm?” Otabek said, before he took a sip from the bottle.

“ Did that sort of stuff happen often? Viktor’s stuff getting delivered to you? He’s the literal worst so it wouldn’t surprise me. Nobody really seems to realize it, but he’s pretty much an idiot. Like who doesn’t make sure they change the address on their lube subscription box before they move? That’s got to be the first thing you do, right?”

_ What the fuck did I just say? _

Taking a gulp of his beer, Yuri wished there was a way he could just die right there.

But Otabek’s only reaction was a slight smile, setting off flutters in Yuri’s stomach. Yuri had been right—Otabek was fucking gorgeous when he smiled.

“ That’s what that was? Huh. Makes sense I guess. Those two were always at it. I was constantly walking out into the hall to find him and the cute Asian boy tearing off each other’s clothes.”

Yuri tried to ignore the flash of rage that ripped through him at the idea that Otabek thought the other Yuuri was cute.

“Yeah,” Yuri said, “they can be gross like that.”

Otabek shrugged.

“If it hadn’t happened all the time, people might have been less pissed.”

An idea started to blossom in Yuri’s head. A beautiful idea to get some revenge against Viktor for---well, Yuri would come up with that list later, but he knew it was going to be a fucking novel.  A  _ brilliant _ idea that would allow Yuri to spend some quality time with his new neighbour.  Purely for the purposes of making a friend of course.

“ How do you feel about the idea of justice?”

***

Yuri had always assumed that he would be good at a revenge plot.

He was  _ Russian _ . It should have been a part of his DNA, like the ability to drink lots of vodka and liking ballet. Though when he actually thought about it, neither of those were true either.

His first attempt at making Viktor miserable had been psychological warfare. Yuri had searched out every website that offered solutions for male pattern baldness and signed Viktor up for the mailing lists.

But going for Viktor’s vanity had been a mistake. Once the emails started to come in, it was Yuri who had to listen to Viktor’s endless demands to check his hair and tell him if he was thinning. It was funny for the first half hour, but after that it was just another thing that Viktor wouldn’t shut up about.

The second attempt had taken a little more time, and a quick rifle through Viktor’s desk, but he had managed to get ahold of the password to Viktor’s calendar. Yuri had triumphantly gone over to apartment 2D, laptop in hand, to tell Otabek all about his plans.

Otabek had given him one of those inscrutable looks, but he’d still let Yuri in.

The apartment was almost identical in layout to Yuri’s, but where Yuri’s was cluttered, with a decorating scheme he liked to describe as Dumpster Chic meets Ice Tiger, Otabek’s place was minimal to the point of asceticism. The walls were all bare, the surfaces clutter free, and the furniture was down to just the bare essentials—the living room consisted solely of a futon. The only exception was the massive set of shelves that were against one wall, filled with vinyl records and various pieces of tech.

Yuri sat down on the floor, balancing his laptop on his knees, quickly pulling up Viktor’s calendar.

“ This is going to be brilliant!” Yuri chortled, as he started to add a new item.

“ What are you doing?”

“ It’s for the plan!”

“ The plan?”

“ Yeah, to get my cousin back for all of the bullshit he puts people through.”

“ It really wasn’t—“

Yuri held up a hand to cut him off and glowered up at where Otabek was sitting.

“ I managed to hack the idiot’s accounts. Can you believe his password is ‘I love Yuuri’?”

Yuri made a gagging noise.

With a look of confusion, Otabek said, “His password is that he loves…you?”

This time Yuri really did gag.

“ Ugh. No. Gross. His boyfriend is named Yuuri as well.”

Otabek just nodded slowly. Yuri decided that was a sign that he should continue.

“ So…I thought it would be hilarious to add some stuff to his schedule.”

There was no reply, so Yuri continued to speak as he started typing. “You know? Like stupid stuff—stuff that might help him realize how fucking extra he is.”

With his bottom lip caught between his teeth, trying to ignore the weight of that dark gaze on him, Yuuri worked steadily.

He started with a recurring Thursday appointment:

_ 8:00, Boring Missionary Sex, 10 minutes _

The next was a bi-monthly activity:

_ 10:00, Purchase Stupid Fucking Underwear that my family members should never have to see—WHO FUCKING TRIES TO RUIN LEOPARD PRINT FOR EVERYBODY ELSE????, 4 hours _

His last one, just to make it clear who the architect of Viktor’s embarrassment was:

_ All-Day, Regret ever making my awesome cousin have to see me give my boyfriend a hand job in the back of a car on a road trip when there are still three hours left until we get home. _

Yuri spun his computer around, showing his handiwork off to Otabek.

“ And your sure that this is going to work?” Otabek said.

“ Definitely.”

But it hadn’t. Viktor was shame-proof. That or he didn’t actually even use his calendar, which—now that Yuri actually thought about it—seemed more than likely.

The fucking topper to that shit sundae was that when Yuri had gone over for supper with the two of them, he had walked in on a scene that could make even a seasoned porn star blush--complete with moans that Yuri would never be able to unhear and the sight of Viktor’s pale ass.

How was it, despite his best efforts, that  _ he  _ was the one suffering?

Spinning around, and letting the door slam shut with a satisfying crash, Yuri stalked home. But instead of letting himself into his own place, he walked over to 2D and knocked.

He waited for a full minute before he tried knocking again.

_ It’s fine _ , he thought.  _ Probably just as well. _

But as he sat in his own apartment, re-watching American Horror Story to try to erase what he’d seen at Viktor’s, he couldn’t help but wonder what Otabek was up to, wishing he could have seen the other man.

It wasn’t as if he  _ liked  _ him, but Yuri…Yuri just kind of thought it would’ve been nice to hang out for a little bit.

***

A week later, Yuri finally got inspiration for a third chance at revenge. With his phone in hand he raced out his front door and down the hall, banging on Otabek’s door.

It took a few minutes, but he eventually heard the sound of movement before the door opened and Otabek was blinking wearily at him.

“ Yura, what do you want?”

Yuri blamed the way his stomach clenched at Otabek’s use of a diminutive on the excitement of knowing he could finally become a divine being of destruction. That had to be it. It definitely had nothing to do with the fact that Otabek’s voice was sleep-roughened and the sort of rumble Yuri could feel deep in his chest.

He thrust his phone in front of Otabek and showed him the glorious text message.

“ The idiots are going out of town, and they want me to dog sit. In their place. If we want to fuck some shit up, now is our golden fucking hour of opportunity.”

***

With a week until Yuri was going to be able to unleash hell, he had to actually decide what ‘hell’ would be. After Otabek’s vague grunt of agreement, Yuri had been prepared to settle in for a war meeting, but instead he’d found the door closed in his face.

He had retreated to his apartment and settled down to work. By the time Otabek dropped by on Wednesday, Yuri had gone full Bond villain.

“ Oh, hey!” Yuri said. He leaned one shoulder against the doorframe, attempting to look nonchalant while he desperately tried to remember when he had last washed his hair.

As subtly as he could, he tried to get a sniff of it. The smell was fine, but he could feel the way it had gone greasy.

_ Just fucking great. _

“ I thought I would see how the plotting is going,” Otabek said.

“ Oh, I didn’t think you were interested. What with you slamming the fucking door in my face.”

Yuri liked the way that Otabek didn’t even flinch at his words. Instead he just kind of lifted one eyebrow, and pointedly looked towards the apartment beyond.

“ Are you going to let me in? I brought beer.”

Nodding, Yuri padded back to his spot on the couch, his fingers working quickly to pull his hair into a braid and hoping it would be enough to hide how badly he needed to shower.

“ Nice,” Otabek said.

With a vicious retort ready on his lips, Yuri glanced up. Instead he found that Otabek’s eyes were examining the braid. Yuri felt a pull that started in his chest and went all the way to his groin, and heat rose up in his face.

“ It’s just a Dutch braid,” he muttered, turning his attention back down to the handiwork that dominated the coffee table.

There was the sound of a pop and then a bottle of something amber was being pressed into Yuri’s hand. Yuri muttered his thanks and took a swig, trying not to make a face. It was a little sour in a way that seemed to cling to the inside of his mouth, but there was no way that Yuri wasn’t going to finish the drink.

“ Alright,” Otabek said, “What have you got?”

He pushed the felt tip pens, empty two litre bottle of iced tea, and countless balls of screwed up paper off the cushion beside Yuri, and sat down. Yuri could feel the warmth of Otabek’s thigh through the layers of clothing, and was suddenly aware that this was the closest he’d been to the other man. He took a breath to settle the odd flutters in his stomach, but that only made him aware of Otabek’s scent—woodsy and clean.

_ Why hadn’t Yuri showered?  _ he thought miserably, but the answer was before him in all its monstrous glory.

“ Did you create a flow chart?”

Otabek reached forward and picked up the piece of oversized paper. It took a great deal of self-control for Yuri not to bury his face in his hands in embarrassment.

After four days of almost no sleep, spending hours reading subreddits on ways to torture roommates and shit that people had done while housesitting, Yuri had…he’d gone a little overboard. What he had created wasn’t even so much a flow chart, it was a manic hybrid of a concept map crossed with a murder board with a…Yuri didn’t know what, but it had all been done in marker. Arrows were everywhere, and there were solitary words surrounded in all sorts of borders—Yuri might have also spent a half day on Pinterest—weird pictures, and just…

“ Yeah, I’m not proud of myself,” Yuri sighed.

Laughing, Otabek squinted down at it.

“ Why do you have the word poop written in all caps? Surrounded by a border of stars?”

Yuri groaned and leaned back into the couch.

“ I may have gone a little…at two in the morning it seemed like a great idea to do  _ something  _ with poop.”

“ Well, if I’m going to be involved you need a better fucking plan. What about this?” Otabek said pointing to a square of dense writing.

Leaning in close, Yuri had to read over it several times before he was able to figure out what he had written.

“ I…uh…I thought it would be funny if I left a condom wrapper in their bed.”

Otabek turned to face Yuri, and suddenly he was close enough that he could see the flecks of gold and amber that made up the brown of Otabek’s eyes.

“ Doesn’t that seem kind of shitty?” Otabek said.

“ Hmm?” Yuri said. How could he pay attention when he was close enough that if he leaned in…

Panic sent Yuri shifting sideways so that he was pressed up against the arm of the couch.

“ What do you hope to gain with something like that?”

Yuri didn’t quite understand why Otabek’s brow was furrowed, and any of the soft intensity was replaced with him looking…well, pissed.

“ You know, that they would think that I had fucked someone in their bed. I mean, I could leave it tucked into the couch cushions if you think that’s better? Or I could do both? Both might actually be better. Let Viktor think I tagged the whole fucking apartment.”

Otabek pressed his eyes shut, and shook his head in a way that made Yuri feel like he’d said something stupid.

“ What?” he snapped.

“ Yuri, that’s the sort of shit that has you thinking your boyfriend is cheating on you, not that your housesitter doesn’t understand boundaries. Do they even have a reason to think you  _ would  _ be fucking someone there?”

Where Yuri had been feeling only thrills and warmth since Otabek had knocked on his door,now a cold sick started to rise up. As much grief as he gave Viktor, Yuri didn’t want to break them up. He wouldn’t ever tell them, but he actually kind of liked them as a couple…when they weren’t being gross.

God, and he probably seemed like the worst sort of loser to Otabek. Here was his hot, older neighbour, who seemed to come and go at all sorts of times—Yuri may have occasionally creeped on the hallway one or two times—and Yuri was just some scrawny first year who’s social life consisted only of his over-sexed cousin.

But Yuri Plisetsky refused to be defeated so fucking easily. So he chugged down the rest of his beer, and then gave Otabek a smirk.

“ Okay, so let’s give them a reason to think that I’m fucking someone all over their apartment.”

The words hung in the silence between them and Otabek’s eyes went wide. For half a second Yuri thought Otabek’s gaze might have drifted down to his mouth, but he couldn’t be sure.

“ What exactly are you trying to say?” Otabek said, words clipped.

Fuck.Fuck.Fuck.Fuck.Fuck.God dammit.

Had Yuri just ruined everything? He tried to think of how he could back peddle.

“ We…I…You could just show up with me…when I have to pick up the keys and shit, and we could just tell them that we’re…dating?”

“ Dating?”

Otabek’s gaze hadn’t moved from Yuri, and Yuri had the uncomfortable feeling that Otabek could see right through him down to the fantasies of trying to break through that flinty demeanour that had got Yuri to climax on that very couch.

Yuri tried to take a sip of beer—anything to avoid that gaze—but his bottle was empty.

“ Yeah. We’ll just, y’know, pretend. We can find some ways to stage stuff so that it looks like we did it all over, maybe find a way to make some noise and get some noise complaints. And…it’ll be hilarious.”

“ Okay.”

Yuri glanced sharply over at Otabek, just to make sure he’d heard correctly.

“ Really?”

Nodding, Otabek took a sip of his own beer.

“ There were a lot of us that had to hear some weird stuff, and nobody that knew Viktor felt comfortable using the hot tub at the Rec Centre until after he’d moved and it got deep cleaned. He has it coming.”

Otabek winced at his choice of words, and Yuri laughed, feeling something loosen in his chest.

“ Okay. Cool. This will be fun.”

Yuri reached for another beer, downing it almost as quickly as the first.

Two days. He had two days to figure out how to develop some fucking chill, and not give away his raging crush when he spent the whole weekend with Otabek. A whole weekend pretending to have sex.

It was entirely possible that this weekend might ruin Yuri.

***

“ Yuri, I told you we needed to leave by three—oh, hey Otabek.”

Yuri smirked as his cousin’s tirade was cut off by the sight of Yuri’s companion.

Setting the cat carrier down on the floor in front of him, Yuri turned to Viktor.

“ It’s 2:59, Viktor. I’m a whole minute early,” Yuri said.

“ You were supposed to be over early so that I could go over the instructions for Makka’s meals and bath time. And her walks,” Viktor pouted.

Yuri crouched down and unzipped the carrier. Potya stuck her face out, hissed at everyone and then was a beige and brown streak of fur as she ran off towards the bedroom. There was the distant sound of claws scratching at carpet, and Viktor winced—Yuri couldn’t have planned it better himself.

“ She’s a  _ dog _ . I don’t think it’s that complicated. And you’re only going to be gone for a weekend. How badly can I mess up her routine?”

Throwing his silvery hair off his massive forehead, Viktor’s leaned forward, his tone icy.

“ She’s only just recovered from the last time you looked after her—”

“ So have someone else dog-sit.”

Bustling out of the bedroom, a duffel bag over his shoulder, came Yuuri. He set his bag down on top of Viktor’s massive suitcase and turned to Yuri.

“ We can’t,” Yuuri said. He reached over, his hand stroking Viktor’s shoulder. “Remember, Viktor? Chris is busy, and Phichit refuses to stay here after the last time...and his new place doesn’t allow dogs. It has to be Yurio.”

Yuri glared at the two of them. “Yurio?”

Neither appeared to catch the rage that trembled through that one word.

“ Yeah, it’s kind of confusing with you both being called Yuuri, and when we were talking to Yuuri’s sister she suggested we just start calling you Yurio. Better, right?”

Yuri looked around for something to throw. Something breakable. And expensive. His hand was halfway towards a stupid turtle figurine that Yuri had always thought looked like a smug fuck, before fingers grabbed hold of his wrist.

He traced the line of the arm with his gaze up to Otabek’s face.

“ Save it for later,” Otabek whispered.

His heart racing, Yuri wondered if Otabek could feel every lurch and shudder in his pulse where he still held Yuri.

“ So,” Viktor said, “Did you just come to give Yuri a ride over?”

“ Hmm?” Both Yuri and Otabek turned back to the couple. Otabek finally dropped Yuri’s wrist.

Two expectant sets of eyes were looking at him, and Yuri suddenly wasn’t sure if he could go through with this. He wasn’t even sure they would  _ believe  _ him. And what did he do after the weekend? Viktor and Yuuri were the type to start inviting them on couple dates if they thought that he and Otabek were dating. He was going to have to come up with some sort of believable break-up story, fast. One that made him still seem cool, and wouldn’t get them too upset with Otabek.

“ Are you just here because Yuri needed a ride?” Viktor said again.

“ No.”

“ I thought it would be boring as fuck here this weekend if I didn’t bring my boyfriend with me,” Yuri said, throwing each word out like a challenge.

The two idiots just grinned, Viktor glancing over at the clock.

“ That’s great! I’m glad you’re finally making some friends, Yurio. We’ve got to get on the road—the opening reception starts at six, and I’ll need time to get ready,” Viktor chirped.

They swept out of the apartment, leaving Yuri to yell after them, “Boyfriend! Not friend. BOYFRIEND!”

Then it was just Yuri and Otabek left.

Why did he feel so nervous?

“ Want to get started?” Yuri said, trying to keep his tone nonchalant.

Otabek had wandered over to the window. Pulling back the curtains, he squinted down at the parking lot below.

“ They just pulled out. We’ll give it a couple minutes and then I’ve got to leave,” Otabek said.

“ Oh. Okay.”

Yuri could feel Otabek’s gaze on him, assessing.

“ I’ve got to work tonight,” the other man said. “I got a gig doing a school dance and I need the money.”

Pulling his chin up, Yuri hoped that the weird wobbly feeling that had his throat feeling tight wasn’t evident on his face.

“ Sure. Go ahead. I’ll see you later,” he choked out.

Otabek nodded slowly and walked towards the door. With one hand on the doorknob he paused and looked back over his shoulder.

“ It might be kind of late, but…I could come here after the gig.”

Yuri nodded.

“ Yeah. That would be cool. Would probably help sell our story. With the neighbours and all.”

With a fleeting smile, Otabek nodded and then slipped out the door.

As soon as the door was shut, Yuri collapsed onto the couch. He was quickly joined by the wriggling mass of fur and dog kisses that was Makkachin. Just like her owner, she had no sense of boundaries whatsoever.

But as Yuri turned on the TV and settled in to wait for Otabek, he had to admit that there was something nice about the large, warm body draped across his lap.

Not nice enough though to stop him from going through the cutlery drawer and getting everything all messed up, he thought. Last time he had settled for just mixing the regular and dessert forks together; this time he wanted to think bigger.

***

The rest of the evening was uneventful. After Yuri made his improvements to the cutlery drawer, he spent most of the night sprawled out on the couch with Makka draped across his legs and chest, and Potya perched on the back supervising with an angry glare.

Every so often Yuri’s attention would drift away from the baking competition he’d found on Netflix, and he’d check the time on his phone. Each time, Yuri told himself that he was being ridiculous—Otabek would get back when he got back and not a moment before—but, still, Yuri couldn’t help but wonder how late a damn high school dance would go.

By the time it was nearing midnight and Yuri had blitzed through an entire season of people crying over failed choux pastry and split cream, he had realized how ridiculous he was to expect that Otabek would actually come back.

Why would he? What was waiting here in Viktor’s apartment that was worth Otabek having to sleep on a couch?

Yuri shoved Makkachin off his lap, and the dog grumbled sleepily. He just glared down at her, though he did give her a quick scratch behind the ears, and he went to go take a shower.

Standing under the hot water, he filled his hands with some of Viktor’s over-priced shampoo and started to work it through his hair. Yuri wasn’t sure if it was the shampoo itself, or the pettiness of it all, but it seemed so much better than his own hair stuff.

Over the sound of the shower, Yuri could hear Makka bark and what might have been knocking at the door.

For a moment Yuri was tempted to just let her bark and have that noise complaint added to his list of revenge, but he quickly decided against it. It wasn’t Makka’s fault that she was a dumb dog, or that she happened to be owned by two idiots that couldn’t keep their hands to themselves long enough to remember that Yuri still existed.

He turned off the water and scrambled out of the shower. With a towel wrapped loosely around his hips, he ran across the apartment, his wet feet slipping on the laminate flooring.

“ Makkachin,” he growled, giving her a quelling look.

Throwing open the door, Yuri froze.

Standing in front of him was Otabek.

“ Uh, hey. You’re back,” Yuri said.

Otabek’s gaze was even more intense than usual, and there was a weird sort of energy around him. Normally he seemed so restrained, but as he stood there Yuri thought he could detect the faintest waver to Otabek’s stance, and the smell of coconut and alcohol.

“ You went drinking?” Yuri hated how pathetic and lonely that one question sounded.

Feeling the heat of Otabek’s gaze sliding down from Yuri’s face, Yuri remembered that he was still dripping on the floor and wearing almost nothing. He wanted to dart back in—find something to cover himself up—but he also felt like…like he wanted to see what Otabek would do.

Looking somewhere in the vicinity of Yuri’s collarbone, Otabek mumbled, “No. Don’t know why I take school dances. Well, I do. I need the money. But they’re the fucking worst. Some asshole thought it would be hilarious to spend the whole night in front of the table yelling at me to play  _ the Gambler _ .”

“ Then why do you smell like…” Yuri took a deep sniff. It was more than coconut, it was a processed smell like sunscreen. “Is that Malibu?”

Otabek’s eyes snapped back up to meet Yuri’s and he leaned heavily against the doorframe, a smirk on his lips.

“ That piece of shit tried to sneak in a mickey, and so I confiscated it.”

“ And drank it?”

Otabek shrugged.

“ How else do you get through four hours of watching hormonal adolescents try to grind on each other while the teachers—who all apparently hate their lives and their jobs—complain about…” He paused and gave Yuri a sloppy grin. “Sorry. It’s been…can I come in?”

Yuri nodded and stepped aside. When Otabek walked past him, Yuri could feel the brush of Otabek’s arms against his bare chest. Yuri definitely needed to get some clothes on if he was going to hope to keep his dignity.

“ Make yourself comfortable, I’ll just go…” Yuri gestured vaguely downwards, and he darted off to the bedroom where he’d dumped his bag.

Tearing clothes out of the bag, Yuri tried to figure out what to wear. Would it be weird if he put on his skinny jeans? They made his ass look great, but he was worried it would look like he was trying too hard. 

Instead he opted for a pair of black leggings and a band t-shirt that he stole from one of Yuuri’s drawers. Viktor was about as cool as a thirteen year old girl going through a boy band phase when it came to music, but Yuuri’s taste was a little bit better.

“ So, did you want a drink or something?” Yuri said as he walked back out.

There was no answer and when he looked over to the couch, he could see that Otabek had one hand propped under his face, elbow resting against the arm of the couch; his eyes were shut and his breathing even.

Yuri wondered if he should just leave him, but he knew  _ he _ wouldn’t thank anyone who let him sleep in that position on a couch, so instead he walked over. 

As gently as he could he curled one hand around Otabek’s shoulder and shook. He could feel the warmth and unyielding muscle beneath the thin t-shirt.

“ Otabek, you gotta move,” Yuri whispered.

Instead of moving, Otabek just mumbled and reached forward, pulling Yuri down until he was pressed right up against Otabek, more on him than the couch.

Every nerve in his body was on fire, and Yuri hardly dared to breathe for fear that Otabek would wake up.  A shudder worked its way through Yuri’s body and he could feel warmth pooling in his gut.

Yuri pulled himself away. Hands shaking, he grabbed a blanket from the armchair and did his best to wrap it around Otabek.

With a last look at the man sleeping on the couch, Yuri snuck off to bed, knowing that it would be a long sleepless night.

***

As expected, sleep was elusive for much of the night as Yuri found his thoughts circling back to the feel of Otabek pressed up against him, the way Otabek had smelled of Malibu and sweat, wondering if he’d be able to taste the drink on the other man’s lips; lying there in a strange bed, hard and aching, Yuri finally gave in, his hand sliding into his leggings to stroke himself until he found some relief.

The whole time, trying to bite back moans, he thought of Otabek asleep on the couch just outside. He knew there was no way Otabek would hear him, but as a groan shook free from his chest—perhaps a little louder than it needed to be—he wished that Otabek  _ was  _ hearing him.

He dragged himself to the bathroom to clean up before returning to bed and finally drifting off into a restless sleep.

***

Bleary eyed, Yuri stumbled out of the bedroom the next morning. His gaze went straight to the couch where he’d left Otabek, but all that was left was a blanket neatly folded on the cushion.

Hearing the rattle of dishes from the direction of the kitchen, Yuri turned around and froze at what he saw through the doorway.

In the narrow galley kitchen, Otabek was standing over the stove with a frying pan in one hand, a tea towel thrown over his shoulder and absolutely nothing else covering his chest.

Yuri’s mouth went dry at the tawny muscle on display, that pooling warmth returning in a flood as his cock twitched with interest.

Otabek glanced over, a small smile playing on his lips.

“ Morning,” Otabek said.

“ Uh, hey. Good morning.”

Sending a desperate prayer to whatever gods might be in charge of awkward boners, he hoped that his t-shirt was long enough to cover his reaction.

“ There’s coffee on the counter,” Otabek said, poking at the bacon that was sizzling in the pan. “And this will be done in a moment. I figured you would be fine with us making use of Viktor’s food and stuff.”

“ Yeah. Definitely.” Yuri tried to think of something else to say. “I didn’t think you’d be up already.”

“ No? It's already past eleven. ”

Yuri leaned against the doorframe to the kitchen. Makka, who had camped out beside the stove, turned to give him a doggy smile before turning her attention back to the bacon.

“ You were pretty…you seemed to crash pretty hard. You didn’t drive last night, did you? After your gig?”

Giving the bacon a flip, Otabek shook his head.

“ No, after having to break up a second fight, I decided there was no way I was making it through the rest of the gig sober and so I got my friend Keith to grab me and the gear. Going to have to take a look at some of it later today—I think my blacklight got broken during the second fight.”

Otabek scooped the bacon out of the pan, putting it onto two plates that already had toast and passing one to Yuri. Together they walked back to the living room, Yuri grabbing the armchair and Otabek the couch. Makkachin trailed after them, crawling up onto the couch to join Otabek, her face resting on his thigh and pleading eyes never leaving the bacon.

Once they had finished eating, plates left on the coffee table, it was time to get down to business. 

“ How can we have the neighbours hear lots of loud sex noises?” Yuri mused.

He could hear Otabek’s surprised laugh.

“ I assume that’s excluding the obvious?” Otabek said.

Yuri’s face went hot, and god, all he could think about now was what sort of noises Otabek might make. And how did he even respond to that? Was that Otabek flirting with him? Or was it just a joke?

Taking pity on him, Otabek added, “We could just put porn on. Give me a few minutes, and I can even hook up one of my speakers and we can boost the sound. Any particular type you want?”

“ No, whatever you think is best,” Yuri mumbled.

He didn’t know how he was going to get through a day alone with Otabek without embarrassing himself, especially if it was to a soundtrack of fucking. Just sitting there, trying not to notice the flex and pull of muscle every time Otabek moved, was proving to be a challenge.

Otabek nodded, heading over to the TV and starting to mess around the with the cables in the back.

“ Wait,” Yuri said. He took a deep breath, and then said in one long rush, “Maybe we shouldn’t. I mean. Viktor is a dick, but Yuuri lives here too. And I think that it’s a lot more old people in this building, and what if they had kids? Or grandkids? So maybe we should find something else?”

Sitting back on his heels, Otabek glanced over his shoulder, looking Yuri over before he nodded.

“ Sure.”

“ We could still sort of do stuff, just maybe more…subtle?”

Otabek nodded and gestured to the laptop in front of him.

“How about some music?”

Yuri smiled gratefully.

“Yeah.  That would be good.”

Turning back to the cables, Otabek finished getting it all set-up and quickly music was pouring out of the speakers. It wasn’t at all what Yuri would have expected—more sinuous melodies and harmonies than the insistent beats and driving rhythms that Yuri assumed Otabek would be into. 

When he asked about it, Otabek just shrugged, saying, “If anyone hears this they’re going to  _ assume  _ that we’re having sex.”

Yuri laughed in response, but his mouth went dry and all he could think about was what he wanted to do to Otabek.  What he wanted Otabek to do to him. 

With Otabek’s soundtrack in place they got to work.

First up was what Yuri liked to think of as the subtle touches. He hunted around the bedroom until he found Viktor’s stash of lube. Trying not to think too hard about when the bottle would have last been pulled out, Yuri grabbed it and left it by the bedside table. As an extra flourish, he took the cap off and set it beside the bottle.

Then it was on to the bathroom.

As Yuri had been showering last night in the guest bathroom, staring at the steam, an idea had come to him.

He walked into the en suite and turned on the hot water. Soon the bathroom was starting to fill with steam.

“ What do you have in mind?” Otabek asked from the doorway.

He had finally pulled on a shirt, though the tight fabric only served to accentuate the planes of his chest and his biceps.

“ We’ll get the bathroom steamy and can leave some handprints and shit around. Make it look like we had, uh, shower sex. And they won’t see it until the next time the bathroom is steamed up again,” Yuri said.

“ I think they may have beaten you to it.”

Otabek nodded towards the shower. There were a couple of handprints, as if someone had braced themselves against that wall, and several smears at a height that did not bear thinking about.

“ New plan,” Yuri shrieked, desperately pawing off the water as if that alone would stop those smears from branding themselves into his memory.

He was halfway out the door before he paused, his fingers tracing out letters on the mirror through the steam.

“ Die?” Otabek asked.

Yuri nodded as he got the fuck out of that bathroom.

“ Yeah. Maybe I’ll get lucky and they’ll think they have a ghost or something.”

After that, Yuri’s plans began to run a little thin, as in absolutely tapped out. Considering the amount of time he’d spent planning, he had very little actual plans.

“We should take a break, or something…” Yuri had suggested.

Otabek was kind enough not to point out that they’d hardly done enough to need a break and just nodded.

While Otabek started to go through his gear, Yuri took Makkachin out for a quick walk, and then he settled onto the couch with a movie playing in the background as he watched Otabek work.

It was sometime later, Yuri drifting in and out of sleep, when he heard Otabek set something down on the table.

“ Is it okay if I turn out the lights? I need to check this black light out.” Otabek said.

Brushing his bangs off his face, Yuri pushed himself up, wiping at his face and hoping that he hadn’t been drooling. Though…if he  _ had  _ drooled on Viktor’s couch, that was another thing he could add to his list.

“ Go ahead,” he said.

Otabek reached over toward the table lamp beside Yuri’s spot, the hair of his undercut sliding forward so that it was falling in front of his eyes.

The room went dark; evening had snuck up on them and the only light was from the glow of the TV.

There was a few noises as Otabek poked around at the light, and then the black light was on. Yuri could see Otabek’s white shirt glowing purple, but what caught his attention was the pooling glow on the armchair just behind him. And the coffee table. And the floor.

With a creeping sense of horror, Yuri looked down at the couch he was stretched on and saw more glowing streaks and smears.

He leapt off the couch with a yell, scraping at his skin. Even Otabek looked a little in awe of the scene around them.

“ They really didn’t leave any surface untagged, did they?” Otabek said.

“ Turn it off! Turn it off! TURN IT OFF!”

Yuri had tiptoed his way to the only patch of floor that was untainted by his cousin’s libido. A second later Otabek was beside him.

“ Go find your own spot!” Yuri said with a shove.

“ I don’t think there is another spot.”

Groaning Yuri sunk down to the floor, clutching his knees to his chest.

“ Why are we still looking at this, Beka?”

“ Just give me a second.”

Otabek reached over to turn the light off, and then sat down beside Yuri.

Within the small patch of floor that was safe they were pressed hip to hip, thigh to thigh, their shoulders brushing against each other. Black light off, the room had an intimate closeness that sent Yuri’s heart racing for completely different reasons.

“ This was not how I pictured this weekend going,” Yuri muttered.

He could feel the vibrations of Otabek’s laugh.

“ No? What did you have in mind?”

Yuri wasn’t entirely sure where he got his surge of boldness; maybe it was the dark, maybe it was his brain still adjusting from the horror he’d seen, but something came over him. He leaned forward, one hand reaching up to to grip the back of Otabek’s head, until his lips were against Otabek’s.

The kiss started sweet and tentative—Yuri wasn’t really sure how to take it further—but soon Otabek’s lips were moving against his, his mouth opening so that he could plunder Yuri’s mouth.

Sensation exploded through Yuri, and when Otabek’s hands started a sweeping exploration up his thigh, his palm warm through the thin material of the leggings, Yuri moved until he was sitting on Otabek’s lap. One broad hand settled on the small of Yuri’s back, pulling him forward until his cock was pressing into the firm muscle of Otabek’s stomach. Yuri rocked his hips forward, moaning at the sensation.

Yuri reached one hand up to tug at Otabek’s hair, nails scraping along the shaved sides, and with the other he started to tug at the hem of Otabek’s shirt.  There were entirely too many clothes between them and he intended to fix that right away.

When his fingers brushed against the ridges of Otabek’s stomach, he heard Otabek’s breath catch, followed by a deep groan. 

Light exploded into the room, leaving Yuri stunned and blind--and still so needy.

“ Yurio?”

With a sinking feeling, trying to blink away the spots dancing in his vision, Yuri turned to the doorway.

At least he’d got the reaction he was looking for, he thought miserably, taking in  the stunned expressions of Viktor and Yuuri.

What did he even do? What was the protocol when your cousin caught you snogging a man while you were supposed to be house sitting?

Sliding back off of Otabek, trying to hide his painful arousal, Yuri settled for belligerent.

“ What are you doing back?” He asked with a toss of his hair.

Yuuri was giving him what looked uncomfortably like a sympathetic expression.

“ Everyone at the conference got sick. They sent everyone home. We thought that we’d been okay, but Viktor started to get—”

He was cut off as Viktor shoved past him, darting towards the bathroom.

Even with the door closed the three of them could hear the sounds of…Yuri really couldn’t think about what it was that he was hearing. It was all he could do not to vomit at the smell.

“ Sorry,” Yuuri said before he walked over to the bathroom door. He knocked quickly. “Viktor, are you okay? Do you need me to bring you anything?”

Otabek rose up from the floor, and Yuri found that he couldn’t bring himself to make eye contact with him.

“ I should probably get going.”

There was a tightening sensation in Yuri’s chest and for a moment he thought he couldn’t breathe, so he just nodded.

“ Okay.”

“ I’ll, uh, see you later,” Otabek said.

“ Yeah. Cool.”

Yuri knew that there was no way Otabek meant it.

***

Thirty minutes later, after Yuri had explained repeatedly--and at the top of his voice--that he was absolutely not going to stay in Viktor’s cum-coated apartment listening to Viktor die, Yuuri finally agreed to drive Yuri and Potya home.

Yuri just wanted to be home. He wanted to take a shower and put on some sort of shitty food competition show and just try to pretend that the last twenty-four hours had never happened.

When they pulled up outside his apartment he had the door flung open almost before the car had fully slowed to a stop. He was just about to slam it shut and draw a line under the whole damn day when Yuuri spoke.

“ Hey, Yurio. Are you…you’re doing okay, right?”

“ My name’s not fucking Yurio.”

“ Sorry. But you’re fine?”

Yuri braced one hand on the top of the car to lean in and peer through the dark at Yuuri. A sharp barb was on the tip of his tongue to fling back in answer, but seeing the concerned furrow to Yuuri’s forehead and the worry in his eyes, Yuri bit it back. Instead he just sighed.

“ Yeah. I’m alright.”

“ You sure? Because you’ve seemed kind of…more…angry lately? Viktor’s been so worried about getting stuff for his thesis done and I know that with the move we haven’t been able to see much of you…”

“ And you think that I’ve just been sitting at home pining for you two idiots?”

He could hear Yuuri’s heavy sigh and saw his fingers tighten around the steering wheel. 

“ I know that you and Viktor are really close, and I just…I thought that I’d make sure you know that he hasn’t forgotten about you. And…”

Through the dark Yuri could see the other man’s cheeks go bright red and his gaze drift away.

“ We’re really sorry about that time. In the car. We…uh…we really thought that you were asleep,” Yuuri mumbled.

Clearly his updates to the calendar hadn’t gone completely unnoticed.

“ Okay. I’m going to leave and we’re never going to talk about this again.”

Yuri slammed the door shut, picked up his backpack and cat carrier from the ground and stalked off towards the building entrance. Still, he couldn’t help the small smile that crept across his face as he muscled open the front door.

As he neared the top of the stairs, a new tension creeping into his shoulders, Yuri held his breath as he walked past Otabek’s door. It was only once he was in front of his own door that he was able to exhale.

All he had to do was get inside and then he could just disappear. He could drink his shitty beer and disappear into people talking about chocolate soil and obsessing over whether their mousse had set, and maybe if he was very lucky he could just die there and be eaten by Potya. The beautiful circle of life.

“ Yura.”

Yuri heart stopped on hearing  his name in that rough voice. He slowly turned, trying to tell his stupid fucking heart that this meant nothing.

“ Beka, hey.”

God, Yuri wished he understood what was happening here. There were so many things he wanted right now. He wanted to drag him close so they could pick up where they left off; he wanted to demand that Otabek tell him what that kiss had meant.

After standing and staring at each other in silence, Yuri finally gestured towards his door.

“ I should probably go in. Potya needs to be let out.”

The cat chose that time to meow indignantly from inside the carrier.

Otabek nodded, shifting his weight from side to side.

“ Can I…can I come in?”

Before Yuri could even think, he said, “But you left!”

Otabek’s head tilted, his gaze narrowing.

“ I had to go get my car anyways…and, I…I had kind of thought that…that you would have taken it as a signal that we should go somewhere…” Otabek shrugged.

“ You mean that wasn’t a brush off?”

“ Yura, why would I give you the brush off? Why do you think I was helping with your prank war? It was…” Otabek trailed off, pink rising up in his cheeks and across the bridge of his nose.

Otabek was always some combination of gorgeous and cool, but in that moment he was also fucking adorable. And apparently awkwardly embarrassed. Over Yuri.

“ Fuck,” Yuri whispered, and then he grabbed Otabek’s collar and pulled him close for a kiss. 

“ Is that a yes?” Otabek whispered against Yuri’s lips.

“ Yes. Fucking of course.”

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr at thewesterndoor
> 
> Other fics in this series are going to involve different ships from various fandoms, but I might circle back to add more Otayuri one-shots.


End file.
